Happy Birthday, Mum

When I was about seven, my parents sat my brother and I down and told us that my mum wasn’t well. Now, I don’t remember the exact details because it was nearly twenty years ago, so I don’t really remember what I felt or what was going through my younger self’s mind. I don’t think that version of me really anticipated how much the big C would impact my life and that I only had twelve years left of my mum.

Today is my mum’s birthday. She would be turning 59 and this year is also the year my brother gets married, so she’d be prepping for that. She fought cancer for twelve years and at the age of fifty-two, she passed away. I was nineteen at the time and I honestly didn’t know what to do from then. My mum was my first best friend and to have her ripped away from me when I still very much needed her, was something I couldn’t wrap my head around.

My mum taught me a lot in the nineteen years we had together. She went through a lot of rigorous treatment during the span of twelve years and I can’t even begin to fathom the excruciating pain and exhaustion she must have experienced during those moments, but never once did she stop being mum. I was lucky to have her, and it was a cruel joke from the universe to give me a mum so amazing and then to take her from me after such a short time together.

My childhood memories are filled with hospital trips and tears, but I also have memories of Friday nights with my mum. My dad would be out and as he got older, my brother would also be out or at university, so Friday nights tended to have my mum and I home alone. We’d have one of our favourite meals for dinner and just watch whatever I was making her marathon with me. I managed to convert her into a Supernatural fan and we always loved to watch Criminal Minds together. We’d also watch all our favourite ‘chick flicks’/rom-com films – which was a tradition she’d started with me from a young age.

No matter how much she suffered, I never once heard her complain. Occasionally she’d say she was tired but considering everything she was going through – I’d say that was a pretty tame way of putting it. She always had a way of making sure everyone else was okay no matter what she was going through and I think that level of selflessness is something I’ve always wanted to carry with me.

Her strength always amazed me. She received treatment every three weeks on a Friday and despite how much it would knock her for ten, she wouldn’t let that stop her from doing things despite our many efforts to stop her. My mum was incredibly stubborn – which is probably something that aided her in fighting for over ten years.

When I was coming out, and Jade and I made our relationship public, it was seven months after my mum had passed and all I wanted was her with me - to talk to. People ask me a lot ‘How do you think your mum would have felt about you being bi and your relationship?’ and though I can’t say for certain, I have a feeling that she would have been the most accepting person in my life. I know that my happiness would have been at the forefront of her mind, so even if it may have come as a shock to her, I think she would have come around to it a lot quicker than everyone else. Do I ever regret not coming out to her? A little bit, but I was so scared of coming out at all that I buried that really deep.

My mum was loved by a lot of people and she meant something to a lot of them. However, to me she was my mum and she was my first best friend. I feel like at times I took her for granted and obviously, like any parent/child, there’d be times where we’d have fights (quite a few actually). When she first passed, I really regretted them and it’s all I could think about. However, I’ve come to realise that they were just part of life. It didn’t change our relationship and it didn’t change my love for her.

So, I really just wanted to write a little post about my mum because I’ve never actually done that. She was incredibly brave and fiercely strong and stubborn. She had a big heart and she was selfless. She had a lot of energy despite everything she went through and she knew how to have a good time. There’s not much else I can say apart from that she was the best mum ever and I feel lucky to have her – even if it was just for less than twenty years. Happy Birthday, mum. I love you and I hope you’re proud of your girl.